Page 6 of A Very Titan Christmas
“I would have had the same problem.” Cat folded their bags and shoved them into a storage cabinet. “Except Jace and Adrian fed it to the dogs when I wasn’t looking.”
Mia and Sugar laughed.
“Not funny. Do you know what turkey and dressing does to dogs?” Caterina pressed her nose. “Ay, Dios mío.So bad.”
The front door opened again, and kids rushed in. More voices echoed through the halls—young, energetic, high-pitched. Kids called out for their friends, laughter trailing behind them like shadows. Ella O’Kane and Sarah Gamble waltzed in, cheeks red and hair wind-tossed, as if they’d escaped the weather only to cross through the riptide of children swarming Mia’s home.
Ella held up a large glass pan in one hand and a bag in the other. “The butterscotch bars are Bishop’s favorite, but I also brought sweet potato pie and no-bake cookies.”
Sarah’s laugh was as bright and cheery as her smile. Glass bottles clinked. “I can’t beat the desserts, but I have wine—”
Caterina cheered.
“And the paper plates, napkins, and green beans sitting on the stoop.” She placed them next to the other dishes with a slight clatter. “Nic, Beth, and Cassidy are out front overseeing some kind of push-up contest. Boys versus girls. It’s mayhem.”
A minute later, the door opened again amid cheers and jeers and calls for another contest. Boots and sneakers were kicked off, and the newest round of Titan kids melted inside the home they knew so well. Nicola Garrison, Beth Hart, and Cassidy Oliver entered with dishes, boxes, and bags.
Nicola set bottles of juice and sparkling water on the counter with the wine. “We had more in the car.”
“Nic made mac and cheese. And I picked up a pizza since I was running behind.” Beth scooted over the dishes on the counter to make room for the casserole dish and pizza box. “Cass, here, put that”—she rearranged the dishes to create space for another bowl—“right here.”
“So glad you brought a salad,” Mia added. “I wasn’t sure if we’d have enough veggies.”
Ace Winters and Adrian Savage poked their heads into the kitchen. “Is it time to eat?”
“No.” Caterina shooed them away.
Dylan Garrison popped in next to the boys. “What about now?”
“You’ll know when it’s time,” Nic said over her shoulder as she arranged the paper plates.
The scent of roasted garlic and herbs drifted from the slow cooker on the counter. Mia leaned down and cracked open the lid over her pot roast, letting the rich aroma of tender meat fill the room.
“That smells amazing.” Nicola peeked over Mia’s shoulder. “Thanks for hosting us all.”
Every year, this group of women and children gathered at the Winters’ home on the weekend after Thanksgiving if their husbands were on assignment. This year, many of them were out of the area. Some even out of the country. The house was filled with laughter, mess, and warmth. Even without their Titan men,this was Mia’s kind of family gathering. “You know I love having everyone over. We’ll do it again when everyone is home.”
Ace popped his head into the kitchen again. “Ready now?”
“Almost. Count to one hundred.” Mia pulled the lid off the slow cooker, releasing a wave of savory deliciousness. Everyone else took that as the sign to uncover the lids, foil, and cling wrap from the dishes. The spread, hot and steamy, wafted with a mixture of mouthwatering scents. “Cat and Ella, you want to make Luca’s and Ginny’s plates first?”
They nodded and grabbed paper plates, racing against Ace’s speedy count to one hundred.
“Beth, do you want a high chair for Carson?”
“Nah, he’ll kill himself climbing out of it if I don’t watch him like a hawk. He can sit on my lap.”
Caterina and Ella called for their youngest. Luca Savage and Ginny O’Kane scampered into the kitchen in their socks, cheeks still flushed from play, and plopped into seats at the large kitchen table that could seat a battalion of kids and parents.
“Fifty-nine, sixty-two.” Ace sprang on his toes by the threshold of the kitchen.
Adrian elbowed him. “You’re not counting right.”
Ace elbowed back. “I’m counting faster so we eat faster. Seventy-five, eighty-two, ninety-one—”
“Ninety-nine, one hundred,” Sugar said, then raised her voice for the rest of the house. “Food’s ready.”
The stampede came instantly. A herd of children, tweens, and teens thundered through the hallway, socks skidding on the hardwood floor, jokes and laughter flying. The kitchen bottlenecked as they scrambled for plates. Their eyes were wide with hunger, as though they hadn’t recently eaten themselves full at Thanksgiving.
